Moonflake Press - Issue #1; THE AFFAIR
‘The Affair’ is a love letter to anti-love, desperate love, lust, deception born from passion and all the other sins that are never seen in the blood-red Valentine’s advertisements February is overrun with ♥
‘The Affair’ is a love letter to anti-love, desperate love, lust, deception born from passion and all the other sins that are never seen in the blood-red Valentine’s advertisements February is overrun with ♥
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This too was warm but cooling to our even warmer skin. Way out from the beach, we
spied a few strange-looking fishing boats. Their elaborately carved shapes and gaily
painted sails made them seem like exotic water lilies, floating on the calm sea.
The beach itself was blessedly deserted. But then, we were becoming used to that.
It suited us perfectly. Three or more would have been a crowd in our case.
Further along, we came to a small opening; a natural walking trail that led into the
thick foliage of palms and ferns. We made our way over to it because it looked inviting and
just a little mysterious.
Wherever it led, we had to find out.
A short way in, the trail petered out to a small clearing. A kind of glade with a small
pond surrounded by lichen-covered rocks. Vines clambered over them all. A ceiling of palm
leaves dappled the sunlight and enabled a soft, thick, carpet of grass to grow abundantly
upon the ground. We sank into it, laughing at our own witty chit-chat and from too many
sips of our cocktails. It was cooler here in the shade, but still very humid. I lay on my back
and he lay beside me, his face filling my vision and my mind. We kissed, tentatively at first,
then stronger, more passionately. It felt idyllic, like something from a romance novel, or a
Hollywood movie. But we were writing our own lines, creating our own scenes…
Later, we splashed about in the icy, cold pond. The boundaries were down now.
We felt free to touch and caress as we desired. He hadn’t brought any morals after all and I
didn’t care. It was what we both wanted. To be free with each other, not restricted by
anything or anyone around us.
The sun was sinking as we made our way back to the resort. The same bemo with
the same driver was waiting for us. Beside it stood the same receptionist, holding his hand
out for our room keys. We hadn’t really needed them. Nature had provided instead.
We sat close on the plane, a little tired, but very contented. He put his arm around
me, and we fell asleep somewhere over the Timor sea.